


Salvation Beyond the Laws of Physics

by iris_14cheonsa



Series: dancing particles of light [4]
Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15978209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iris_14cheonsa/pseuds/iris_14cheonsa
Summary: "Have we met before?" - Sento, a new world, incomplete amnesia, life trying to throw stones at him but he keeps finding diamonds and how the nascita gang will always find each other again





	Salvation Beyond the Laws of Physics

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the summary was inspired by a quote from Ana Claudia Antunes  
> Canon divergence in which Sento is left all alone in his new world, but doesn't let his sadness override his pain to re-befriend the nascita gang + (kinda) character studies for each member as they regain their memories (or not?) and find a friend in this Tarou Sato look-a-like  
> Personally I was expecting a more bittersweet ending and I had mixed feelings about how Shogo Muto wrapped up the series, but before you pick a bone with me, please keep in mind that I am allowed to have a different interpretation/opinion that veers away from the general fandom consensus. I have already dealt with people on this subject matter via Tumblr, and I'd rather not experience it and cry again. So please, if you don't agree, kindly leave the premises.  
> Chapters will be posted in order from the last friend Sento made to the first, though there needs to be a "Sento introduction", of course ^.^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scientist isn't free of emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date written: 13 September - 2 October 2018  
> Author's Note - Well, to be honest there wasn't meant to be a Sento chapter, but I felt like I couldn't start this off unless I wrote the canon divergence I had in mind for the ending. That means there will be some alterations to how Sento's interactions with the others play out + extra scenes are added  
> A l s o due to the length of interactions I managed to fit in for Sento x (insert nascita member), some will be longer than others. I tried making Ryuuga's longer but there was nothing more I could add  
> This thing has been in my drafts on Word Document ever since the Build ending aired  
> And the first chapter's finally done after a month or so - like 3200+ words whoa

His memories, his sense of self were still held together.

Sento remembered his father had said the new world was beyond the understanding of science, yet he grappled for some logical explanation behind his existence. For a moment, when he had seen Prime Minister Himuro on television; alive and not dying in Gentoku's arms, Sento thought just maybe, this world carved a place for him to belong. That perhaps, even if Evolto didn't exist, Sento somehow did and the world heralded that by letting everyone remember it.

Put more bluntly, he foolishly hoped he could live as he did a year ago, back when the old world existed. _The old world_. The idea he had created this one was still foreign to his mind.

Perhaps Gentoku would remember him; on television he saw a glimpse of Gentoku in the prime minister's entourage, once more bearing a refined image of a politician's son. But it would be difficult to gain audience with Gentoku without an appointment. Maybe Sento had to start small. It would be more logical to accustom himself to a world free of war again before he made any drastic moves.

 

* * *

 

Gentoku followed his father, back straight and his hair neatly gelled back. Though he'd like to address his father familiarly once the cameras were turned off, there were bigger priorities at hand. Even so, his hands were restless, so Gentoku slipped them into his pockets, feeling for the lump of a purple Bottle. It was childish to play with it at thirty five years of age but it helped curb any moments of impatience.

 

* * *

 

So it was with a buzzing head and disoriented steps that Sento stumbled about town, trying to determine what still existed and what had been added, when he saw Ryuuga, animated and laughing. A flood of relief had surged through him (Ryuuga had been flung out of the rift before Sento could escape) and he forgot all reason as he ran forward, calling out "Banjou!", hoping for some reminder of the old world until -

"Say...who are you?"

It was then Sento took a proper look at Ryuuga - or at least, his alternate counterpart.

Ryuuga's existence had been tied into Evolto's corruption for so long, even Sento had forgotten Ryuuga was already meant to exist in the first place. Thus, his hair was as black as ash and his grin (though confused) was so broad and wide, it was almost like looking at a stranger. _Maybe this was who Banjou was before getting framed as a murderer._ He wasn't even letting crude insults slip through his mouth as he usually did.

Sento's gaze drifted to Ryuuga's side, noticing a woman with long black hair, a pink jacket and a long white dress. _Kasumi Ogura._ Sento had only seen her true form for several minutes in the old world, but even now he understood why the old Ryuuga loved her until the end. She hastened to provide a basis for Sento's odd actions ("maybe he's a fan of mixed-martial arts?") and had a smile worth protecting. It brought back happier times when Sento could defeat a Smash, absorb the essence into a Bottle, thus ending the host's troubles, and go away happily. A smile made its way to Sento's face, as tired as he was, and he gladly accepted Ryuuga's offer for a handshake.

 _At least Banjou's happy_. Sento then walked away, a slump to his weary shoulders.

 

* * *

 

“I wonder who that was," Kasumi mused, peering up at Ryuuga. “Have you two met before?” The latter shrugged.

"Who knows? Let's go get some ice cream," he suggested with a foolish grin (just because they were engaged didn’t make Ryuuga any less of a lovesick man) and proceeded to half walk, half jog to the nearest ice cream stand with Kasumi. "I'm starving." Out of habit, he pulled out a silver Bottle - his lucky charm - and tossed it in the air; the dragon carved into its surface gleaming in the summer sun.

 

* * *

 

With all the destruction Evolto had caused, the only place Sento could find without becoming confused was the nascita. In its old location, of course; Sento belatedly noticed as his feet instinctively carried him there. He examined the building, seeing the bright paint unchipped and the advertising decor as cheerful as ever. He shuffled uneasily on his feet - the whole time Soichi had been at nascita, it was Evolto, and it was possible Soichi was radically different. Well, if Misora found nothing wrong with his behaviour, surely he was the same...right? Sometimes Sento had imagined meeting Soichi after the war and it always ended with the man pushing himself into Sento's face, bellowing he won't let his "precious angel" date with a stranger. It was possible that who owned the nascita in this world wasn’t even Soichi but a stranger too.

Perhaps Misora's dramas were getting into his head, but Sento was tired. A good cup of coffee (Sento shivered involuntarily) should do him good. So Sento finally decided to step into the cafe when the door burst open and Sento leapt back, aghast as someone was being carried out of the nascita. _Does Mr. Isurugi's coffee taste_ that _bad?_ For a moment Sento wondered if bringing canned coffee should've been a precaution when he saw one of the men's faces. "Aoba...?"

Aoba raised his head and furrowed his brow. Sento scanned him, relieved but bewildered that the man he had killed (Sento's fingers curled into his palm) was alive and...wearing a blue floral shirt. Well, it was summer after all. "Aoba? Who's that?"

 _Right._ The Hokuto Crows wouldn't exist as a name in this world, let alone their code names. "Oh, I mistook you for someone else I know."

The taller man - _Akaba_ \- shook his head with a broad grin. "No big deal. We get mistaken for members of Lynks all the time."

"Lynks?"

"Boss, get a hold of yourself," the youngest - Kiba - interrupted with a whine, gently slapping Kazumi's face with a hand.

A silly smile overcame the latter's features as he hummed "so cute" under his breath, eyes closed. Sento rolled his eyes; it didn't take much for him to put two and two together to know Kasumi probably saw Misora. _Guess alternate worlds don't cancel out prominent character traits._

"Boss, we're not carrying you all the way back to Hoku - argh!" Kiba yelled as Kazumi snapped open his eyes and all three proceeded to drop him. Sento winced, one shoulder raised.

"What's the big deal, dropping me like that?" Kazumi muttered, picking himself off the concrete and brushing dirt off his clothes. Sento couldn't stop staring, noticing how healthy this Kazumi was. His last memory of Kazumi was a soldier trying to hold back his tears, cut and bloody all over as he dissolved into golden particles. Obviously this version had never been doused in Nebula Gas, hence the lack of dog tags wrapped in chains around his hand.

"Well, you're the one who went unconscious, Boss." Aoba looked away, placing his hands on his hips.

Kazumi snorted, hiding a smile. "Anyway, that girl really is cute. I should come by more often, see if she's single, maybe get her phone number - " It was then he finally turned to see Sento, still idly standing. "Huh? Who's this? A Tarou Sato look-a-like? Man, that's some intense plastic surgery you got there. Fans are really crazy these days."

A scowl shattered any positive feelings Sento might've felt in that moment. "No, this isn't plastic surgery, it's all natural - "

"I get it, I get it," consoled Kasumi, patting a hand on Sento's shoulder. "I'll keep it a secret for you. It probably wasn't cheap to get your face all done like that."

"It's not - "

"Well, we're off." Kasumi released his grip. "We've got work waiting for us back on the farm. Let's go." The Hokuto Crows (Sento couldn't disconnect their association with the name) eagerly nodded and quickly followed Kasumi as he strode away.

Sento tugged at the end of his green-and-white shirt, grumbling "this handsome face is one hundred percent natural" before sighing. Kasumi was alive and well, and so were his workers. In a way, Sento made up for the string of deaths that had occurred with the Hazard Trigger. That was all that mattered.

 

* * *

 

"That was a lot of work done to his face, right, Boss?" Akaba popped the question, marching alongside Kasumi.

Aoba put his arms behind his head. "First it's merchandise, then body pillows and finally their faces. The world's getting extreme with that kind of stuff."

"But Lynks is a neat band, aren't they, Boss?" Kiba happily leaned over as he walked, hands behind his back.

Kasumi sighed, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets. "How should I know? That guy looks way too much like the lead guitarist. Anyway," Kasumi took out a brown Bottle, playing with its cap by twisting it with his thumb and index finger, "who is that girl anyway? How old is she? Nineteen? Oh, that's not so bad, a lot of people have age gap romances. What's her name? Misora Isurugi? I think calling her _Mii-tan_ would be cuter!  _Mii-tan_? That sounds familiar... _Mii-tan_ , I can't wait to see you again - "

 

* * *

 

Stepping into the nascita, Sento ventured with tentative steps, gaze wandering about the familiar yet unfamiliar room. All the knick-knacks, the pictures, the furniture were exactly in the same place as before. Except that the pictures weren’t atypical portraits of landscapes, but shots from space; even one of a dome-shaped building sitting on the surface of the moon.  _Right_. The Soichi of this world wasn't a vessel for Evolto, but a former astronaut. Sento slid onto a seat at the counter, looking about to see actual customers, not one-time visitors, dotted about the tables situated in the room.

“Welcome.” Sento turned around and a girl was tilting her head, a section of dark hair swept up in a scrunchie.  _Misora_. “What would you like to have?”

"Oh, um, coffee would be good," Sento managed, eyes trailing after her form. It was unnerving, to say the least, seeing Soichi standing behind the counter, avidly crushing some coffee beans, while Misora carefully placed a glass bowl in front of Sento. A pang rang through him; the last time he looked at Misora before leaping after Ryuuga - she was trying so hard to smile like this. Telling him that she believed in the  _Build they all made together_ , except her eyes were bloodshot and dried tears were on her cheeks.

He never really told her anything; a majority of what he told her to reassure her were mostly lies she discovered.

He never even said goodbye.

“Um, excuse me...Have we met somewhere before?” Sento lifted his head. “I feel like we have.” She continued to stare at him with widened eyes. "Where could it have been..." she murmured, her eyes shifting in a visual attempt to recall _something_. Despite all the lies, guilt and just rewards he received, hope bloomed inside Sento's chest as he waited for her words with bated breath, swallowing hard. Was she the one person who remembered him in the new world?

“Oh, you’re Tarou Sato!” The spell was broken as Soichi clambered close, waving an excited hand at the wall. Sento turned and saw a Lynks poster with his – Tarou Sato’s – face printed on it. His nose crinkled, remembering the hideous state of the man’s living quarters. He never got over that, to be honest. “I can’t believe it! One of my favourite singers is standing in my café right now! Oh, before that try some of my coffee." Sento warily looked at the cup. "Can I have your signature, by the way?" Soichi handed him a black marker. "It'll be such an honour!"

"Please excuse him," Misora hurriedly told Sento, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she pushed Soichi away, rambling about the importance of work. Sento smiled, fingers curling on the table top. He hadn’t seen Misora smile so broadly and without fear before the war erupted. After that it had been strained smiles, temporary happiness and her screaming at him for being so stupid despite being a genius.

He tried the coffee and jolted at how  _good_ it was. So the terrible coffee was Evolto's doing - thankfully. Sento slid off his stool and walked to the doorway, though not without uncapping the marker in his hand and signing the poster at the corner. Taking care that he wrote  _Tarou Sato_ instead of  _Sento Kiryuu_ , he gave a satisfied nod and left the pen on the shelf below the poster.

Misora deserved to be happy.

He still cast one last longing look at her smile before leaving the nascita.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, Tarou Sato’s gone!” Soichi ran out from behind the counter to fling open the door, trying to catch signs of the man. “Looks like he left already…well, I guess it’s not so bad. He knows of our humble café and I got his signature!” Soichi admired the newest addition to his poster. “Today has been a good day in business. I have to hand it to Yuki-chan for suggesting this job!”

Misora smiled and hurried over to a table as the customer left. “But don’t forget Dad, we’ve got work,” she reminded her father while putting the empty plate and cup onto a tray. A lilac Bottle hanging from a string around her neck tumbled down, rolling a couple of centimetres on the table top. “Oops, looks like the thread snapped.” She quickly scooped the Bottle back up and carefully made her way back, the tray teetering in her other hand.

 

* * *

 

“So no one remembers me,” Sento mused rather forlornly, seated at the edge of a fountain. He clenched and relaxed his hands. “What should I do?”

There were many alternatives to this. Sento Kiryuu was now a free man, devoid of responsibilities, alliances and enemies. The world was surely at peace, thus meaning no reason for a Kamen Rider to be lurking about. In fact, Sento wasn’t obliged to rescue others from danger. He may as well pass for an ordinary civilian who happened to have a brilliant mind. Maybe he could go to another town and start all over. He was glad that Tarou Sato was alive but he didn’t want to relive the stunning moment when he thought his past life was a slob. There he could get a job related to physics and be involved in projects benefitting humanity. Then he’d make acquaintances and – if he wanted to – start a family of his own. It wasn’t that bad of a possibility.

But every time something ran past him Sento jerked his head up, as if expecting something of the old world to physically remind him he wasn’t alone. Ryuuga with his auburn hair, Misora crossing her arms at him, Sawa striding into his vision with information about the new world. Just anyone would do, even Utsumi. Having the Belt – or whatever this contraption was, Sento mulled as he took out the Watch – was only of material comfort. It couldn’t exchange barbs, comfort him, yell at him; it couldn’t do anything.

He wanted to go home, even though this world had no place for him.

 

* * *

 

“That man...he seems a bit down. I wonder if he's okay,” Sawa wondered, casting a worried glance at the man sitting desolately near the fountain. Sawa slipped her blue sleeve down her wrist to check her watch, eyes widening. "I'm going to be late for the interview!” She ran down the path to the government building with two nascita coffees in hand, the pink Bottle chained on her handbag swinging with the movement.

 

* * *

 

Climbing off his motorcycle, Sento plopped himself onto the closest bench. "Maybe I could work on that," he murmured, holding up a beige notebook in his hands. He quietly smiled in pride examining the logo he had designed on the cover before flicking through the notebook. "I even put my adventures into a script for forty-nine episodes," he scoffed at himself. "There's not much use for it if no one remembers me." Sento threw the notebook on the bench next to him and leaned back with a sigh. Peace and quiet; just the way he liked it while putting together his latest invention.

 _Katsuragi_. His original self was probably doing just that, albeit alive and under the pride eyes of his father - their father. But Shinobu only remembered one son; hence why he reached out to stroke Sento's hair, asking him  _if he grew taller_ like he was Katsuragi and not Sento, in his final moments. The disassociation from his former identity was tiring, especially now, when Sento had nothing left and Katsuragi's alternate self enjoyed his own life. Bitterness swelled in his chest as he quietly fumed, looking at the clouds. So much for saying he wasn't human, Sento thought with clenched fists, because he wanted nothing more than to return to the nascita.

He looked back at the script. It looked just like him; unused, unwanted, perhaps the first of its kind to exist in this world -

 _The first of its kind to exist in this world_. An inkling of an idea began to form in Sento's mind. He started tapping his foot.  _The first of his kind_. And he would be the creator. Except it wasn't like creation myths where everyone argued over which tale was true when none of them actually knew the answer. This script - Sento picked it up again - was something that could be published. Of course it'd be brushed aside as a sci-fi fantasy but people would know who made it just by looking at the name on the cover or listening to the voice on a broadcast. It would be  _his_ voice, of course, because these were his memories, and who knew them better than Sento Kiryuu, the only inhabitant of the old world?

Another thread of thought spun in his mind. There could  _possibly_ be the chance that the radio drama (he decided) could draw people's interest. Perhaps it could - he stood up - even trigger memories of the old world from the main figures involved. Gentoku falling down after striking a killing blow, Kazumi standing until the end, Sawa huddled on the ground, Ryuuga flying into the void between worlds, and Misora with glowing green eyes. It was probably impossible but Sento had also thought his life as Takumi Katsuragi would forever be stories the people around him told in scathing tones. Instead, he had seen his previous self in the darkness of his mind, telling him that Sento Kiryuu was the better host for this body. And since when did the old world prove to Sento that anything  _wasn't_ impossible?

Sento raised his arms, the script in one hand. "Isn't it amazing? Aren't I genius? Aren't I brilliant?" He shouted to the wind, listening to the echo of his words. Setting his shoulders, Sento grinned and went on his motorcycle, turning on the engine. It was time to return to town. He couldn't let any of the possibilities, the solutions be left as mere fantasies for others to prove in his stead.

He was a scientist, after all.


End file.
